


The One With The Green Dress

by cassielassie



Series: The One With ... [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Night Stands, Pining Idiots, Smut, oblivious pining idiots, romcom, turns into something more, work functions doing the most
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassielassie/pseuds/cassielassie
Summary: Hermione Granger has told herself two things going into the Ministry Winter Solstice holiday party: (1) she is not going to drink too much champagne and (2) she is definitely not going home with a certain glib blond .... for the ninth time. When she keeps neither of those promises to herself, she manages to gain a lot more out of this night than she ever could have imagined.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: The One With ... [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837765
Comments: 8
Kudos: 221
Collections: LU





	The One With The Green Dress

**The One With The Green Dress**

Written for MalfoysAngel's The Dirty Thirty Challenge at FanFicTalk 

_So. My first foray into actually posting smut. Just a little bit of nerves (alskdjfasd). Beta'd by the absolutely wonderful Minkaroo - thanks for helping me tweak this so I had the guts to post it :) Also special thanks to Mel, Noelle, and Maria for listening me ramble on this forever and reading to help me develop the storyline._

* * *

Hermione stumbled, catching herself on the wall as she looked around. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened - she had gone into the night saying she would only have a few drinks this time. 

Because Godric knew what she would do if she got drunk at the Ministry holiday party again. 

Well … Godric knew  _ who _ she would do. 

So when Ginny had asked her if she was going to have  _ a night _ like she had the last eight Ministry events over the past two and a half years, she had insisted “oh no, just a few glasses of champagne.” 

But somewhere along the line, that clearly hadn’t kept to plan. 

And she was entirely convinced she had Ginny to thank for that, because when she thought back on it - it really seemed as if her champagne glass had never quite been empty. 

Because Ginny had  _ somehow _ gotten it into her mind that these endeavors the last two and a half years were something that should become a regular basis outside of the winter holiday, summer solstice, and Remembrance War events every year. Because really, they were just so picturesque when they interacted at the events and it's not like everyone didn’t know  _ why _ they were disappearing at the same time at every event.

But really, it was the principal of the matter. 

Closing her eyes, Hermione turned so that her back was against the wall and slid her shoes off of her feet, taking a few deep breaths to try and orient her brain. 

Because really, Ginny was off her rocker. It wasn’t as if the two of them ever had civilized conversations, and even work interactions were laced with pure sarcasm and constantly undercutting the other. 

Though she had admitted to herself a few times that it was nice to have someone who could spar with her and actually win sometimes. And it’s not like he wasn’t easy on his eyes - with his custom tailored suits that sit on his body  _ just right _ and the dress robes that she was sure cost more than every single possession in her apartment. His grey eyes were always quick to laugh at her, though she sometimes wondered at the emotions she couldn’t identify. And his pale hair was always perfectly sculpted and she’d find herself sitting across the desk from him and just imagining what it would be like to tangle her hands in those fine strands - 

Hermione shook her head to expel that thought quickly, knowing that she needed to get out of the Ministry before he found her. Because she had seen him eyeing her in the party and it was only a matter of time before he had sought her out - starting with a dance across the floor, where she forgot about everything else as they bantered, and then ending -

Well, ending in his bed. 

The scent of aged parchment took over her nostrils and Hermione’s eyes snapped open to see a pair of grey eyes not even a meter away staring back at her, the corner of his lips pulled up as he wavered slightly in place.

“Granger.” 

She grunted, pulling her shoes up to her chest as if they would shield her from him. 

“Very eloquent.” He crowded forward, taking the shoes that were in her hand into his own, leaving her palm pressed against his chest. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were trying to leave the Winter Solstice celebration without me.” His fingers trailed up her arm absently and Hermione’s fingers clutched at his dress robes. 

“Malfoy,” she murmured, as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. “We can’t keep doing this -” 

His lips found the point under her ear and Hermione lost all rational speech and reasonings as to why they  _ couldn’t _ do this again as she let out a moan, his teeth nipping at the skin softly before his tongue soothed the spot softly. Pulling on his dress robes so he caged her entirely against the wall, Hermione ran her hands up so that one rested on his shoulder as the other ran up into his hair. 

His silky hair, that just flowed between her fingers without ever catching no matter what she did. 

Malfoy’s free hand settled at her waist and gripped tightly, to the point Hermione absently found herself thinking that she would probably have bruises tomorrow from it. 

“Malfoy -” she tried again, as he kissed back up to her mouth, though he pulled back just slightly so their lips were barely grazing. 

“Granger,” his voice was husky and Hermione felt liquid heat pool between her legs. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.” His knee crowded between her thighs and Hermione felt herself arching into his hand on her hip as the friction hit just right. “You think I haven’t noticed how you look at me in the office?” His fingers clenched at her hips and he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “If you think that I don’t want people to know, I can promise you -”

She pressed her lips against him, swallowing what it was that he was about to say as she closed her eyes again and let her body fully settle against him before she pulled back again, their breaths mingling in the small space.

“We can’t just keep - we have to work together, we can’t keep casually-”

“I would say that eight times isn’t just casual, Granger.” Malfoy’s hand holding her shoes slapped into the wall above her head as he slid forward again, pushing her higher up on the wall so that her eyes were at his level. His grey eyes bounced back and forth between her own and Hermione willed herself to keep her chin up rather than melting as his hand traveled slowly from her hips, his fingers dancing up her side, thumb coming to rest just beneath her breast. “These events have been the highlight of my years, lately.” Malfoy pressed his lips to her forehead softly. 

A scoff left Hermione’s throat and she pushed at Malfoy, though he only grabbed at her wrists softly, her shoes banging against her arms. She studied his face, but she couldn’t identify the emotions that were flashing through his eyes. 

But she decided she didn’t really care, because he was right. She had been eyeing him the last few weeks in anticipation of what felt inevitable, even if she could list out the reasons it shouldn’t happen because they were just work colleagues and there  _ wasn’t  _ anything more between them. 

“Back off, Malfoy,” her fingers clutched at his dress robe as she pushed. His face fell but he took a step back, letting her drop back down the wall. He held her shoes out for her, but Hermione followed him away from the wall and settled her hands at his hips. “Your place as usual?” 

A grin overtook his face and Hermione resisted the urge to run her fingers over the dimples that had appeared as he looked down at her, fisting her hands into his dress robes instead as she pushed him back towards the fireplaces. “No, yours.” He pivoted after a few steps and wrapped his hand around her waist as he picked up the pace. “Mine’s being renovated.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, his fingers pressing into her hip in a possessive manner as they neared the fireplaces. Quickly stepping up to one, Hermione grasped the powder in her hand and turned to the side to look at Malfoy. His pupils were blown and his gaze was focused on her chest, which she knew was expanding and deflating at a rapid pace as her body reacted to his proximity, his fingers flexing on her hips. 

And oh, how she wished she didn’t crave this. Didn’t crave his grey eyes roving over her body like she had the answer to the world. Didn’t crave his fingers dancing across her skin and down to the bundle of nerves between her legs. 

Didn’t crave  _ him _ in every visceral sense of the word. 

Because she knew - even if she loathed to admit it - she didn’t want to drink tonight because she knew she wanted  _ more _ than just this three times a year. 

She wanted it always, just as Ginny insisted. 

But she’d never have that. 

Hermione threw the powder into the grate and murmured her address, taking a step back and pulling Malfoy with her so that he was flush against her front. Malfoy’s fingers wrapped around her waist, her shoes bouncing off her back, as his other hand buried itself in her hair. His lips crashed down on hers and she felt her knees go weak, the green flames spinning around them as she closed her eyes to the sensation, choosing instead to focus on Malfoy as he nipped at her bottom lip as they stopped spinning. Pushing him out of the fireplace, Hermione stumbled slightly, Malfoy’s hands catching her by her elbows as he paused against the couch, her shoes sliding from his hands. 

He reached to pull her forward and she shook her head, pulling at his dress robes as she took a step backward. “Bedroom.” Her voice was soft, but Malfoy immediately followed her, his hand sliding down to her own where he tangled their fingers. 

As she stepped down the hall, Malfoy crowded against her back, the heat from his body causing her to quicken her steps. As she pushed open the door to her bedroom, Malfoy pressed against her again, making her trip over her feet and into the bedroom before he spun her around so that she was facing him and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her feet from the ground. He pressed soft kisses to her mouth and Hermione’s hands clutched at his dress robes, before he dropped her. She gracelessly bounced backward onto the bed, and Malfoy stood at the edge, his chest falling and rising heavily as he looked down at her, where she had risen up onto her elbows to look at him. 

“Too many clothes,” she breathed, sitting up and reaching for his dress robes again as she pulled him forward. He braced his knees on either side of her thigh and let her pull him forward, before Hermione made quick work of the silver buttons on his dress robes. Once she had finished them, she grabbed the vicuna wool material from the bottom and pulled it up, Malfoy finally gaining movement again as he helped her pull the robes over his head before they fell somewhere behind him. 

Hermione’s fingers made to move for his silk dress shirt, but he pushed her back onto the bed, her curls fanning out around her and he leaned forward, his fringe falling down in front of his grey eyes as he studied her. 

“Do you want this?” His voice was soft as one of his fingers played with a loose chocolate curl. 

“Malfoy, I’ve never said no before, I’m not going to now.” 

Hermione slowly raised her own hand before running it through his fringe, pushing it back on his head and he hummed low in his throat as he closed his eyes softly. 

“Yes or no,” his voice was low and vibrated through Hermione’s hand which had slid to his cheek. 

She breathed out and Malfoy’s eyes fluttered open, his grey eyes swirling and Hermione felt her chest clench. 

“Yes.” 

Malfoy grinned then, like a predator, and dropped the curl he had been playing with and running his finger down the column of her neck. 

“Do you know,” his finger trailed between her breasts and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as his thumb grazed across the peak of one of her breasts before his hand continued down her dress. “How entirely maddening,” his hand reached the top of her thigh where her dress was pushed up before he slid his finger up along the outside of her thigh, leaving a trail of fire behind his fingers. “Seeing you in this dress was tonight? To see you flitting about in Slytherin green like it wasn’t intended to distract me?” His fingers stopped at her hip, flexing a few times down the side. “And now, I have to live with the realisation that you aren’t wearing any knickers.” 

He leaned forward and caught her lips in his own, his palm settling against the bare skin of her hipbone as his fingers squeezed against her arse before he slowly slid his fingers up further under the emerald dress. His lips trailed down from her mouth to her neck, where they settled for a few moments before he continued further, taking one of her nipples into his mouth through the material of her dress. Hermione keened against Malfoy’s mouth, her back arching into his touch as his thumb grazed her rib cage. 

Malfoy leaned back again, withdrawing his hand from her ribs and Hermione felt the absence of the warmth immediately as her nipples rubbed against the material of her dress. His stormy grey eyes were hooded as he looked down at her, his pupils blown wide in the dark light. “All night, I’ve thought about this,” his fingers pulled her up again and his hands slid down her sides again, gathering the silk in his fists. “How it would feel to get this off of you.” 

He yanked the material up and Hermione heard something rip in the process, but found she couldn’t be bothered to be angered as his lips immediately latched onto her right breast, both of them falling against the bed, his elbows catching him. His knee shifted between her thighs and Hermione found herself grinding against him, trying to gain any friction, before one of his hands pushed down and pinned her against the bed. 

“Patience, Granger.” His breath ghosted across her nipple and Hermione closed her eyes as she moaned, arching into his touch. He took the tip into his mouth again and his other hand snaked up to tweak at her other breast and Hermione swore there was actual fire dancing across her skin as he focused his attention, the sensation all coalescing between her thighs. 

After a few minutes of his ministrations to her breasts, Malfoy leaned back and slid his knees down over the side of the bed, causing Hermione to open her eyes and look at him. Malfoy smirked at her before pulling her forward until her legs were over his shoulders and her bum was barely on the edge of the mattress. He kept eye contact with her as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee, his lips slowly working their way up the inside of her right thigh. As his mouth neared her center, Hermione scrambled to her elbows, reaching forward to push him away with one of her hands, but his own hand caught hers and pushed it back. 

“Malfoy, you don’t have to, we’ve never-”

Malfoy’s lips hovered, his breath ghosting over her and Hermione couldn’t help the shiver that worked its way down her spine and caused her to slip back down on the bed. 

“Granger,” his voice was a rumble between her thighs and Hermione couldn’t stop the soft moan that left her mouth. “I have dreamed of this since that Remembrance event in 2006. Let me have this.” Hermione’s resistance disappeared as he blew on her softly and his fingers laced with her own on the bed. 

His tongue darted out and Hermione gasped, her free hand reaching forward to tangle in his hair. “Good girl, Granger.” Her entire focus shifted downward as his mouth attached to her clit and Hermione’s fingers scraped against his scalp, lost in the sensations and needing to hold him in place because if he left, she just knew - she would implode from the sensation gathering through her body, chasing across her veins. 

One of his fingers slid in her and Malfoy groaned against her, the vibrations ricocheting through-out her body. 

“So fucking wet for me, Granger.” 

“Less. Talking. For once in your life,” she growled. He really never did bloody shut up.

Hermione’s eyes slid shut as Malfoy chuckled against her before he inserted a second finger, crooking his fingers up until he hit that spot and her hips jerked as he doubled the efforts of his tongue against her clit. Before too long, Hermione felt waves cresting through her body and she moaned again. 

“Malfoy - if you - I am going to -” 

Malfoy’s fingers slid from her hand and pressed her hip to the bed to keep her squirming down as he kept at it, his fingers keeping pace with his mouth and Hermione felt the tightly wound spring in her belly suddenly release, her fingers grasping his hair, thighs clamping around his head as she rode out the wave of her orgasm. He continued his ministrations, only coming to a stop when her hand fell limply from his head onto the bed. 

She was only vaguely aware of him leaning back on his heels before he was pushing her back up the bed so that her head was resting closer to her pillows. Cracking her eyes open, she frowned as she looked him over. 

“How is it fair that you do  _ that _ ,” Hermione’s hand settled on his hip where he hovered above her, fingers hooking into the belt. “But you’re still fully clothed”

He grinned above her and Hermione felt something in her chest flutter at the dimples that reappeared again. 

“Well, I had to have some form of payment for doing that.”

“You enjoyed it far too much for it to be a punishment.” 

Hermione brought another hand to his neck and pulled him down, humming lightly as she tasted herself on his lips, soft against her own as he settled his body weight on top of hers. She nipped at his lips briefly before trailing a few kisses down his chin. Her hands made quick work of unbuttoning his the offending silk shirt, pushing it over his shoulders as she ran her fingers down his back, nails catching slightly on the raised scars she knew littered his torso. 

Malfoy’s hand rested lightly on her hip again and Hermione flipped them, leaving her straddling his thighs as she made quick work on his belt and buckle, helping him push his trousers and boxers down over his hips as they disappeared over the edge of the bed, leaving him exposed. She eyed him and felt the pressure pool low in her belly again as she trailed her eyes up his body, finally coming to his face where his own eyes were studying her. 

“Someone’s impatient,” his voice was low, his hands settling on her hips as she reached forward for him tentatively, biting her lip as her fingers circled him and he groaned, dropping his head back against the pillow. She slid her hand up and down his shaft a few times before leaning forward and running her tongue up him, only to have him stop her with his hand in her hair. 

“If you,” he panted, the grey of his eyes entirely blown out “continue that, there will not be an encore for a while.” 

“Fair game, Malfoy.” 

He growled, fingers tightening in her curls as he pulled her mouth up to his, their teeth clacking against each other. Hermione ran her fingers up and down him a few more times before he flipped them again, pulling her hands up above her head where he pinned them with one hand, his mouth unrelenting on her own as he ran his fingers up her side before pulling back slightly. 

“Salazar, Hermione.” He breathed and Hermione felt an entirely different sensation sweep through her body at his use of her given name, and she just knew that she needed to hear it again. “I don’t have that kind of self control for you. You’re just-” His lips pressed against the corner of her mouth and Hermione squirmed under him, trying to bring him closer to her entrance as his nose bumped against hers. “You’re perfect.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest and Malfoy’s was there to swallow any of the words she would have said, and she lost her thought to the feeling as he moved, positioning himself. Before she could lift up so that he was there, Malfoy pulled back from her lips again, his grey eyes scanning her own. 

“Do you want this, Hermione?”

A shiver worked its way down her spine and Hermione couldn’t decide if he was asking her consent to continue, or if he was asking her something deeper- if she wanted something beyond just this moment, something that maybe involved every morning with him... but she couldn’t dwell on that in the moment because no matter what he was asking, the answer was the same. 

“You talk too much.” She deflected, but Malfoy’s grip on her wrists tightened and he sat back on his knees, leaving Hermione feeling empty. 

“Tell me what you want, Hermione.” 

His voice was low, soft but deafening in the room and she felt something buried inside her ache at the passion in his voice and the way his eyes didn’t break from her own, even as her chest heaved up and down as she tried to control the fire racing up and down her body.

“You, Draco.” She breathed out and he groaned before he sheathed himself inside of her. Hermione felt her eyes close at the sensation while he stilled, giving her a moment to adjust to him. 

He released the grip on her wrists and her hands were instantly on his body, grazing up and down his back as he moved in and out of her, her own hips rising up to meet his, the sound echoing in the room between their own moans. Her nails scratched down his back, and one of his hands slid into her curls, clutching at her head as he pressed their lips together again. Malfoy’s lips were meticulous against her own as he slowed their pace, his other hand grasping at her hip. 

“Just perfect,” his voice murmured against her lips and Hermione found herself arching up into him as his hand slid down to circle the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. “Just want - every day, just this…” his words were disconnected and Hermione found she couldn’t focus on them as the feeling in her lower abdomen swelled, his teeth nipping lightly at her collarbone before her fingers gasped at his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers. 

After a few moments she moaned against his lips and Malfoy pulled back. 

“Open your eyes,” he commanded, his own voice sounding like he was barely in control. Hermione clutched her eyes tighter. “Open your eyes for me, Hermione,” he breathed, the air ghosting across Hermione’s lips as everything in her body pooled and she felt like she was about to fly. “I need to see - Hermione, look at me.” 

Her eyes opened finally and she looked at Draco, his own grey eyes intense on her as he kept up his rhythm, fingers working quickly on her. The look on his face - was so open, so caring and Hermione found that she couldn’t keep it together as he looked at her like that - like she was someone that he needed to spend every night with - and then she was falling apart, “ _ Draco _ ” falling from her lips like the answer to a prayer she didn’t know she was asking as his eyes bore into her own. 

Draco continued circling her clit as she rode out her orgasm, grunting as her muscles clenched at him thrust in and out. One of his hands slid up, pushing one of her hands down to the bed where he tangled their fingers together, his lips coming to rest at her neck as he pressed soft kisses. 

“Never letting go again,” his breath was soft and Hermione felt her brain stutter at his words, but Malfoy didn’t react, his lips moving against her neck. “...it for me, Hermione.” Broken sentences filled the space, his lips crashed into hers and Hermione felt her heart leap against her chest as he laced his fingers with hers. He brought his head back, looking down at her and Hermione whimpered as he brushed their noses together before attaching his lips to hers again, his pace becoming frenzied the closer he got to his own orgasm. “Could do this,” his lips moved softly against her own, swallowing the whimper she let out “every day” he groaned against her lips before he came apart himself, and Hermione felt him still as he settled his forearms on either side of her head, resting his forehead against her own as they both fought to get their breathing under control. 

While she was out of breath from what had happened - Hermione also knew that this time had been entirely different than previous, neither of them chasing just an orgasm but something  _ more _ and she didn’t know what it meant, but the way he had looked -

“I can hear you thinking,” he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before he rolled to his side, gathering her up in his arms so that her head was tucked under his chin and she slowly moved one arm across him as he ran a hand down her back. “Sleep, Granger. Tomorrow.”

Hermione felt him press a kiss to the top of her head and she released a breath against his chest, allowing him to cuddle her against him closer. 

She just knew that nothing was going to be the same again. 

\----

The sun filtered through the window, assaulting Hermione’s eyelids as she burrowed further into the warmth that was her bed, wrapping her hands around the arm that was draped around her middle. A second later, her eyes popped open as she realized  _ why _ an arm was wrapped around her and what that really meant. 

She had never stayed the night before at his place. 

Stilling her hand movements, Hermione fought to keep her breathing even as she thought through what she had realized last night, before she let her brain drift off to sleep. 

This wasn’t - just casual. Not to her at least. Not the way her heart had felt like it was going to hammer out of her heart at the  _ things _ he was muttering. The things that seemed to imply that it wasn’t necessarily casual for him either, but were they just sweet drunken nothings or -

“You’re not very good at lying with your words, let alone your body, Granger.” A voice drawled from just behind her head and she huffed, letting him twist her so that she was facing him. “It’s a wonder smoke isn’t coming out of your ears with how much you're thinking, too.” 

His head was propped up on his hand, the other caressing absent circles on her side where it remained. His face was soft in the morning, and without a conscious thought, Hermione found herself tracing her fingers across the faint scar on his cheek. Immediately realising what she was doing, Hermione made to pull her fingers away but Draco’s eyelids fluttered close and he seemed to lean into her touch. 

Taking the moment, she continued to trace her fingers lightly across his face, ghosting across his eyelids and the scar that crawled up his neck from his chest. A content hum came from his throat and Hermione took the moment to ghost her fingers across his lips, which seemed to be even softer in the day. 

Her fingers shook slightly against his lips before she made to pull them away, but before she made her escape his hand darted to her hand, bringing her fingers back to his lips where he peppered soft kisses on them and Hermione swallowed the lump that was in her throat. 

It was too much, too fast, and everything that she had found herself daydreaming of, and she needed to get away. 

Hermione pulled back from Draco, rolling to the other side of the bed, missing the look that flashed across his eyes as he watched her. Taking several deep breaths, Hermione pushed down the panic that was clawing at her throat, because  _ he would leave _ and she would be abandoned knowing what it could be like, and she couldn’t do that, not when she had already admitted to herself how  _ much _ she wanted this and -

“Granger,” his voice was gentle and Hermione felt the bed behind her shift as he scooted across the bed. His hand drifted lightly to her back and she jumped up, turning to him wrapping her around her waist, not caring that she stood before him stark naked. He stared at her from the bed, emotions playing in his eyes that she couldn’t identify. 

“I just - what, what are we doing, Malfoy?” She hated how her voice broke in the middle. “What are we doing? How can we just - this keeps happening, and I’m just so confused -” Hermione shook her head and focused on breathing, closing her eyes. 

“Granger, take a deep breath.” His voice was soft and close, but Hermione didn’t react. He gripped her arms and Hermione tried to pull away. “Hermione,” his voice was soft, close to her ear and she held her breath as his fingers trailed down her arms. One of his hands wrapped around her back and drifted up and down her spine.

Hermione let her head thud against his chest as he continued rubbing her back, murmuring soft things into her ear as her breathing synced up to his. After a time, he wrapped both of his arms around her back, pulling him against her, and Hermione let herself give in as she wrapped her own arms around him. Taking a deep breath, she relished the smell of parchment that always lingered on him. 

“Better?” 

His voice rumbled through his chest and Hermione nodded against it briefly before she pulled back to look at him, a flush covering her cheeks. 

“I - sorry, I just -”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hermione.” His eyes bore into her like he wanted to strip her to her soul, and just be there. Hermione felt the same emotions from last night flood through her. “Can we just - let’s talk?” 

He pulled back, and picked up his shirt from where it had been tossed carelessly to the floor the night before, handing it to her as she nodded. She quickly buttoned it, watching as he pulled on his boxers. The muscles in his back flexed and Hermione had to pull her eyes away from him with effort as he turned back to her. She made herself step over to her chest of drawers to grab a pair of knickers that she quickly stepped into, pulling them up under his shirt that dwarfed her. She turned back around to see that he was gazing at her again, his pupils dilated before he seemed to give himself a shake. 

“Breakfast?” His voice was soft again and Hermione nodded, taking a step towards him and allowing him to guide her out of the room. As they walked down the hallway, Hermione sniffed as she caught the scent of a full breakfast already, and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

As they entered the kitchen, she looked at the dishes laid out on the counters and turned to him, with her hands on her hips. 

“ _ Why _ is there already a  _ full _ breakfast laid out for us?” 

Draco stepped past her to where a kettle of tea was sitting and poured it into two cups. He busied himself making the tea, Hermione’s eyes narrowing even further as she stared at him as he put in the  _ precise _ amount of honey that she preferred, before he turned back to her, holding out a vial for her and the cuppa. 

“I had Neely bring Pepper Up potions - because I knew we would be having this discussion this morning - and she insisted on making breakfast.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Draco sighed and shoved the potion and cuppa into her hand. 

“Neely is paid and a free-elf, she chooses to serve me - not my parents - because she raised me and if you don’t eat her breakfast, she will be incredibly heartbroken, Granger.” Hermione wrapped her fingers around the items and let him steer her to the peninsula, where he pulled out one of the chairs for her. 

She set the vial and tea on the counter before climbing into the chair, swinging her legs absently as she watched him load the food on two plates. he set one in front of her, and the other next to her before he came around with his own cup of earl grey and sat down beside her. Draco gave her a pointed look, and she stuck her tongue out at him before she picked up the vial, pulling out the stopper and downing the potion inside. 

Immediately, she felt a haze she hadn’t even noticed clear from her head, and a wave of embarrassment started to creep up her cheeks as she thought of the anxiety attack she had just that morning. 

“Stop thinking so much,” Draco’s voice carried over and Hermione glanced to the side to see him shoving a piece of toast in his mouth, which he chewed quickly before swallowing. “Just eat. We’ll talk after.” 

Hermione watched as he continued to shovel the food in his mouth before she looked down at her own plate. Her stomach rumbled at the smell and she picked up her fork, taking a bite of the eggs that were on her plate. Mechanically, she continued to eat the food in front of her, her stomach queasy as she went through the scenarios for how this conversation was going to go. 

He had stayed the night. Eight times prior, and she had never stayed the night at his place once. Always left before he woke up, even when she had wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped up in his arms. 

But he was still there. 

And he’d had his elf bring a hangover potion.The elf had even made breakfast for them to eat together... and he was still sitting there, wearing nothing but his boxers, and she was wearing his shirt. 

The lingering scent of his cologne invaded her senses and Hermione dropped the fork to the plate suddenly, knowing that Draco had turned his eyes to her. 

If he was going to tell her that this thing had to stop - after she had gotten to know what  _ this _ could be like, she wasn’t sure she would recover. 

“Granger?” 

She felt his fingers ghost across her arm and she turned to him, heart pounding at the concern on his face. He had turned in the chair to face her, his elbow planted on the counter as he trailed his fingers down her arm before tangling his fingers with hers. Hermione inhaled a breath sharply, nerve endings firing aimlessly at the contact. 

“I don’t know - what - Dra-Malfoy-” Hermione stuttered over several sentences before she clamped her lips shut, his finger ghosting across the back of her hand absently. She closed her eyes briefly, taking slow breaths as she collected her thoughts. 

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Malfoy, but I-”

“It’s not a game.” Draco’s words were clipped and Hermione pressed her lips in a thin line before opening her eyes, his own trained on her. “I - nothing about this is a game to me.” The skin around his eyes tightened momentarily and Hermione’s heart gave a traitorous thump. 

“I can’t just … keep doing this thing, casually.” Hermione’s voice was soft, the words barely entering the space between them. “At first - it was what it was. But last night? That wasn’t - the things you said,” Draco’s cheeks coloured slightly and she swallowed. “Did - did you mean them?” 

The silence lingered and Draco’s eyes dropped to their hands, where his thumb continued across the back of her hand. As the silence dragged on, Hermione felt her heart crack and she started to pull her hand back, but he kept a firm grip on her fingers. 

“Every morning - I see you at work every morning, and have to resist the urge to bury my hands in your hair and kiss you.” His voice was hoarse and Hermione looked up to him, though his eyes were still glued to his hands. “I watch as you give out affection to all of your friends, and wonder what it is I would have to do to get that more than three times a year. I was set to swear off the Winter Solstice event this year.” His eyes turned up to hers and Hermione’s breath caught at the intensity there. “But I heard you and Weaslette-”

“Potter.” 

“I heard you and  _ Potter _ ,” Draco’s eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he dropped them back down to her. “Talking - I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard my name. She was needling you - about me. About what we kept doing.” His free hand tapped an anxious rhythm on the top of his thigh. “You kept insisting it was nothing, that it couldn’t keep happening - and I swore then, that was it.” 

Hermione dropped her own eyes, knowing exactly what the next part of that conversation with Ginny had been. Malfoy’s fingers unwrapped from her own and then they were on her chin as he forced her to look at him. 

The warmth that was there, for her. Hermione knew she needed to bottle that feeling. 

“But she kept pushing you,” he whispered, his thumb sliding softly across her lower lip. “And imagine my surprise when you admitted to her that it couldn’t keep happening - because you kept imagining more.” His thumb paused at the corner of her mouth and Hermione forgot how to breathe. “You told her that you wanted to wake up like that every morning, but you left - because how could I want that?” 

His hand slid around to the back of Hermione’s head, fingers tangling in her curls as he hooked his leg in her chair and pulled her closer to him. Hermione reached her hands out, bracing them on his thighs, and re-centering herself. He pulled her head towards him and she kept her hands braced on his thighs, swallowing the moan from the pressure of his fingers. 

“But how could I not, Hermione?” His breath ghosted across her lips and she couldn’t stop the soft sigh that left her own lips at the sound of her name from his mouth. 

“But your family -” the protest died on her lips as he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her lips. 

“My father has no say on my life,” his lips brushed her own just so as he spoke. “My mother - well, she’s not clueless.”

He brushed his lips against the corner of her lips and she closed her eyes as his free hand came to rest on her waist.

“The press -”

“Has been handled.” 

Hermione’s eyes flew open at his statement and she stared at him, her brain sluggish from the distraction of the pressure of his fingers. 

“Really, Granger,” he chuckled at that, pressing his lips against hers softly, “Did you think that we had just been lucky in never making the gossip columns after the Ministry events?” 

She pulled back a little, her mouth gaping at him. “So you just - what, paid them off? How much did you pay them?” 

Draco gave a careless shrug of his shoulders as he slid from his chair and stepped between Hermione’s legs closing the gap again. Her hands came to rest on his hips of their own accord, her fingers grazing the elastic band of his boxers. 

“Malfoy’s take care of the things they care about,” his forehead came to rest on hers and Hermione let her eyes drift shut again. “Will you let me take care of you, Hermione?” 

“I’d rather say you already are,” she breathed, wondering how her heart hadn’t yet beat out of her chest. 

“Say it,” his voice was a rumble, and Hermione shivered. “Say that -” his voice caught as Hermione slid her fingers under the elastic of his boxers, trailing her nails lightly against the skin there. “Say that you want this every morning, Hermione.” His own hand trailed up her side until he buried the second hand in her hair. “Say that you care for me like I do for you.” His voice was raw, the truth laid out in front of her. 

His lips ghosted across her eye lids, trailing down her cheek where he pressed them against the corner of her mouth again before he withdrew, leaving his lips a hair's breadth from her own. 

Hermione’s lips turned up at the corner and tugged at him until he was crowding her in the chair, though his lips didn’t venture closer. She opened her eyes and brought her hands to his cheeks, her brown eyes searching his grey, the longing evident as he looked back at her. 

“Every time that you and Harry go out on your missions,” her left thumb trailed across that scar on his cheek again, her eyes absently following the motion, “I sit there in my office, worried that it’ll be the mission I get a patronus telling me to get to the hospital. But it’s not Harry I’m worried about, Draco.” He inhaled sharply and Hermione pulled her eyes back up to his, swirling with what she now recognized as hope. “Only in my wildest daydreams did I let myself think I  _ could _ have this every morning, though. That I - I -” She broke off, closing her eyes as she chased the words running through her brain. “That I would be the only one that you need, the only one you wanted to come home to. Because - that’s … if this keeps going, that’s it for me, Draco.” 

The words barely left Hermione’s lips before Draco’s lips crashed down on hers and Hermione let her fingers slide back and tangle in his hair, her toes curling as fire ran through her veins. His hands dropped from her hair down to her thighs, where he gripped and pulled her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He took a step back and they jerked as he collided with the other chair. 

“ _ Shite _ .”

Hermione giggled, pulling her head back to see Draco’s face screwed up in pain as he dropped her back to the floor, though she kept her hands planted on his chest. 

“Not how I imagined the moment after that conversation going.” He grabbed a wand - her wand, she noticed absently - from the kitchen counter and pointed it at his foot, muttering a healing spell under his breath. The pain on his face cleared, and he looked at her with a smirk. “Only thirty months in the making, to be ruined by a stubbed toe.”

“Thirty months, eight days, and 12 hours.” 

Draco barked out a laugh and pulled her back into his arms, pressing his lips softly against her forehead. “Swot.” 

Hermione beamed up at him before she placed her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face back down to hers. His lips pressed against hers, soft and caressing, he pulled her flush against him, his fingers trailing up and down her side before he gripped her possessively. Hermione moaned at the sensation, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue into her own mouth, and all sense of rationality seemed to disappear. 

And Hermione knew then - it wasn’t that the future was never going to be the same. 

It hadn’t been the same since that night thirty months, eight days, and 12 hours ago when the man in front of her had ruined her for all others. 


End file.
